The chair and the sliding glass door

are the opposite of paradise// The sagging light// unlike the soft white bats// that dive in gossamer rays// But there is some delusion in the box// A woman pushes the door to signify both, But// my eyes are closed// Her salvaged lips are full of medicine// see, here is where the dream redlines// I have trained my mind on fractal gaskets in relation to// The grains of wood inside a hometown pedestal// Have memorized its corners with// my bygone grip// but I suspect the rail// of her mouth// is bloated with elixir// and so I am not healed// the dog barks again at nothing

Terence Degnan is the author of three books of poetry. His most recent, I Can Wonder Anything was published in March. He lives in Brooklyn with his wife and daughter.